


I Do Bad Things (For the Sake of Good Times)

by PromiseOfGrayskull



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drabble, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Rants, Song Lyrics, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26169445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PromiseOfGrayskull/pseuds/PromiseOfGrayskull
Summary: A semi-song fic based off of "Church" by Aly and AJ...from Catra's perspective during the war.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Kudos: 8





	I Do Bad Things (For the Sake of Good Times)

**Author's Note:**

> During ye olde quarantine, in which I have been listening to both Adora and Catra’s playlists made by noelle on Spotify, I have been having A Lot Of Feelings. Said feelings only intensified after (finally) listening to Aly and AJ, the group AJ Michalka (Catra’s voice actress) is part of. And whooooo boyyyy, are we getting some more feels. Because I am such a nice person, I am writing out a fic that illustrates how I think Catra feels.   
> This isn’t necessarily a song fic, but more of a one-shot based on the song “Church” by Aly and AJ.

Catra would be the last person to admit that she felt emotion. Growing up, it wasn’t something you showed, it was a weakness, an indulgence she got only in moments alone with her best friend. She should not have feelings, it would interfere with your job, your mission, your purpose. Your highest joys, your deepest sadnesses, you did not show, you did not tell, you didn’t get attached to any feelings. You didn’t love, the only thing you hated was the enemies of the Horde.   
Catra loved power. She loved being in command of the entire Horde army, the strongest army on Etheria at her fingertips. She had craved recognition under Shadow Weaver, though the old hag never shifted her praise and affections from Adora. Catra was just as good as Adora, sometimes better. She ran faster, naturally fought better, had better reflexes without even trying. Catra was everything Adora couldn’t be, but none of it mattered to anyone. Until she was in charge, finally recognized for her talents and schematics. For once, she was valued, needed, desired. Soldiers looked to her, and looked up to her. It was everything she’d wanted.   
After climbing her way to the top, cadets saluted her in the halls, remembered her name, congratulated her. The more successful missions the Horde racked up, the more pats on the back and nods of approval. But she craved more, desperate to prove her worth until it was never questioned at all.   
Just second-in-command wasn’t enough for her. She wanted better. She wanted to be the one giving all the orders, sitting in Hordak’s cold metal throne, hearing her name chanted after becoming the strongest person on the planet. She wanted to be the one to bring the stupid rebellion and She-Ra down. She wanted Adora kneeling in front of her throne, begging forgiveness and pleading for mercy, her fate entirely in Catra’s claws.   
So she fought harder, she forced her troops out longer. She stopped looking at the lists of soldiers that weren’t coming back. She sent more squads out, she sent more spies and pushed Double Trouble to their limits. When the Horde was gaining ground, she demanded more. When soldiers began to complain about the lengthy shifts and the decreasing rations, she ignored them and ordered double time. When the Horde was in the best position they’d been since the beginning of the war, Catra sent order after order to do better.   
“I won’t fail. I cannot fail,” she hissed to herself in the few hours she let herself sleep.   
She had her own private quarters. She had fine, battle-ready uniforms that were as functional as they were flattering. Hordak grudgingly admitted his approval in the few meetings they had when he wasn’t working on the Horde’s master plan, something she herself had come up with and organized. She was succeeding, she was where she wanted to be as a cadet, so long ago. Everything was perfect. 

She never thought about the cost. Panic attacks brought on by the piles of paperwork left neglected for months when she was in the field. The soldiers no longer in the barracks. The infirmary overflowing with injuries and exhaustion. The countless, nameless faces without homes or lives, all because of her ordered invasions and attacks. Queen Angella, the victim of the portal that she had opened, despite the warnings. Entrapta, sent to die alone on the shores of Beast Island. Scorpia, the only person who hadn’t left her, until she did, and Catra didn’t even notice. Lonnie, Rogelio, and Kyle, the only others left of her squad, gone because of what she had put them through, and retreated to the Crimson Waste because they thought it would be safer. Arguably Hordak, who she’d fought nearly to the death because she wanted more, and refused to let herself be beneath him any longer.   
Perhaps the worst of all was Adora, who she’d battled time and time again, and who she’d dreamed of taking down. Adora, who Catra had willingly left in bitterness, and who she tortured and manipulated in an attempt to make her see what she was missing, and to make her hurt.  
The worst of it all was herself, and how she would never escape her own guilt. Every time she laughed with the “Best Friend Squad,” whenever she walked past Angella’s mural in the halls of Bright Moon Castle, seeing Entrapta show off a new invention, Scorpia and Perfuma stopping by as they travelled Etheria, when she traced the shiny, white scars crossing Adora’s back with her fingertips.  
For every sin she’d committed, she’d rejoiced in how it made her feel: respected, wanted, strong, powerful. She hadn’t felt guilt until the war was almost over, and she was huddled into a small room on a spaceship, hurtling towards the planet and people she had done so wrong.   
It wasn’t easy for her to admit her wrongs. She swallowed the apologies with the lumps that grew in her throat at every display of kindness towards her. She choked on her regrets when she woke up in the night gasping for air that didn’t feel like fire. She shoved away comforting arms because she didn’t deserve them. She didn’t deserve to feel all those things she’d been taught to not feel. She knew she’d been horrible, and cruel, and cold and she should suffer for it.   
And she did.   
It didn’t happen overnight. But Catra grew. She helped clean the rubble of the destructed towns and rebuild the villages she had ordered to be destroyed. She helped Scorpia fix up the Fright Zone to a friendlier, albeit floral, place, for former soldiers to live in while they built a life they got to choose. And she built memorials for the soldiers that never got that choice. She faced a trial in Mystacor and was found guilty of war crimes, but never faced any punishment as long as she worked to right her wrongs.   
So she worked, every day, striving to be better than her lowest self. And Adora, that annoying, righteous, gorgeous, stupid idiot was right by her side the whole time, encouraging her and pushing her in the right direction. She convinced her to try Perfuma’s therapy and meditation, which was a bigger benefit than she’d ever admit to. Adora held her during the hard nights, always speaking softly and sweetly.   
“No, they don’t hate you.” “You’re doing so much good now.” “You’re doing so well.” “You deserve to be happy, too.”   
Catra believed her. She did bad thing, horrible things, unspeakable things. But weren’t they all for the sake of now, and love, and good times?

**Author's Note:**

> Real quick, I do want to address how I personally feel the remarks made by She-Ra’s crew during a recent livestream. I do not condone the statements made, and am hurt that the crew of a show that was so groundbreaking and accepting would behave in such a way that contradicts the points of the show. That being said, as with the theme of this fic, people make mistakes. People make BIG mistakes sometimes. Mistakes are something to learn from and grow from, if you take the opportunity. I hope that the crew involved is taking the time to reevaluate the comments made, regardless of the context, and to learn from their mistakes in this. She-Ra is such an important show to have, and I would hate for it to be ruined because of this (however unintentional) carelessness.


End file.
